Breaking Up the Silence
by singsongsung
Summary: AU. Lucas Scott has grown up in the shelter of a small town. Peyton's unstable lifestyle has her moving around on rock tours. When she loses the only person who truly cares, will she trust a total stranger to save her? ON HIATUS.
1. Start

**A/N: **This begins at the same point in time as season one of OTH did. The basic premise for this story ties into the actual plot of One Tree Hill pretty well. Lucas and Haley both have their season-one personalities, and the same bond. They are seventeen. The whole Dan-got-two-girls-pregnant situation is the same, but Keith has not played the same significant role in Lucas' life.

Peyton, on the other hand, grew up in a completely different environment. When Ellie got pregnant, she decided to keep the baby (and conveniently chose to give her the same name as Peyton's adoptive parents did on the show). I think the rest is pretty self-explanatory. This is a little different than anything else I've written – no marriages to other people, no children to complicate issues, no past relationships coming back to haunt them…but I'm really liking that at this point, to be honest. It's a good change. This chapter is an introduction; and at this point Lucas and Peyton have never met. Here it goes…

**Chapter 1: Start**

Peyton rested all her weight on one hip as she flipped through the papers on her clipboard absentmindedly. The VIP lists for the event were lengthy and impressive. By each name was a figure, the amount of money the celebrity or socialite or philanthropist was committed to donating.

Arms encircled her from behind, one thumb hooking into the waist of her skirt. "Hey, gorgeous," a gruff voice greeted her.

Despite herself, Peyton smiled and leaned back into his arms, turning her head to kiss his cheek. "Hey. I missed you," she said honestly. She cared deeply for Jack. When he was around, he was her best and closest friend. But Jack was not a permanent fixture in her life – no one really was. He may have been her first lover on God knows what night however many moons ago, but he was far from being her first love.

"Back atcha," Jack replied, brushing his lips against hers. "I feel like I've been away forever."

Peyton shrugged, wincing a little: he smelled heavily of cigarette smoke. "It's been months."

"How's Pete?" he asked pointedly. He'd always had a bit of a jealous streak, even though it had been almost two and a half years since they'd been together.

He made a face, releasing her from his grasp and jumping up to sit on the table next to where she stood. "Sorry, Peyt."

Arching an eyebrow, she grinned at him. "You're one to talk. How many hearts did you break over the past four months?"

Jack just laughed, ignoring her question and nodding toward the clipboard she held. "How're the numbers looking?"

Peyton glanced down at her lists, quickly calculating in her head. In her seventeen years of life, she had never attended school. Music served as her education. A friend of her mother's had taught her to read at a young age – both music and literature – and that was the foundation she'd needed. Notes, measures, time signatures…that was how she learned all the math she needed to know. The language of music showed her the basics of poetry. Living her life drifting from backstage at one concert to another improved her people skills and taught her self-defense. Her knowledge of geography stemmed from the origins of famous musicians; she learned about historical events in each decade from the songs that had survived that time. Peyton felt secure with her unconventional education – she didn't believe that she needed to know anything more.

She looked back up at Jack. "It looks like it's going to be amazing."

Jack gave her a smile that was gentler than his usual cocky grin. "You did good, Peyton."

She shot him a confused smile in return. "It's not me, Jack, it's all my mom."

"Nah. Look at you, you're all over this thing. Ellie let you take the reigns, and you're killing it."

Peyton nodded, looking down at her feet. She knew that Ellie had stepped aside and let her run the show. She just didn't want to think about what that meant. She let her heavy eyes drift back to Jack. When she spoke her voice was surprisingly raw. "How long are you planning on sticking around?"

He gazed back at her, his eyes soft. "I'll be here," he promised.

She appreciated that, but she didn't love him for it. It was a temporary commitment. She knew that he would soon disappear again.

People always leave.

-x-

"Haley!" Lucas bellowed toward the bathroom door. "We gotta go!"

His mother smiled in amusement from her spot on the couch, where she sat watching him pace their relatively small living room. "Do you have the emergency credit card?" she asked. "The roadside assistance number? Your cell phone _and_ your charger?"

He smiled back. "Relax, Ma. I've got it all. We'll be careful."

"No drinking. Promise me, Lucas."

"I promise," he replied obediently, and it was more than likely that he was telling the truth. He and Haley had never been into that stuff.

"But…if you _do_ get yourselves into trouble, you call me right away, okay?"

"We're gonna be fine," he assured her.

Karen sighed, clearly nervous. "Look out for Haley…and for yourself. I want both of you home safely."

As she spoke, Haley finally emerged from the bathroom, glancing at the ceiling and blinking rapidly. "Sorry. My contacts are bothering me."

Karen stood up and embraced them both. She regarded them with muted worry in her eyes as they shouldered their overnight bags. "Be _safe_," she warned them. "And get out of here, you'll miss the concert."

Lucas hugged her one last time. "We'll be fine. I love you."

The moment they stepped onto the porch, Haley shoved her bag into Lucas' hands so that she could jog down the walkway, throwing her arms into the air. "Woo! Road trip!"

He grinned, even though he was now carrying two bags instead of one. Haley was his best friend and pretty much a part of his family. He'd scored tickets to a massive benefit concert that she was _dying_ to go to for her birthday, and he was glad that she was so overjoyed at the thought of going.

Haley's parents had raised several daughters. They were free-spirited and casual in their parenting. Though they loved Haley, she was their youngest and they were tired. They'd virtually left her upbringing to Lucas' mom – not that that was any sort of challenge, Haley was as good as gold at all times.

Still, Karen was hesitant about letting them drive off to Raleigh for the concert. She wasn't keen on sending the teenagers to a cheap motel for the night. She knew that there was no a hint of romanticism in Lucas and Haley's relationship, but she worried about who they'd meet, if they'd start drinking, if they'd forget all the warnings about what to do at concerts to keep themselves safe.

Lucas was her only child and virtually her only family; he meant the world to her. And in recent years, Karen had been mothering Haley as well. She worried about them, of course she did, and they both respected that.

Haley settled into the passenger seat, propping her feet up on the dashboard as she slid a CD into the slot. She rummaged in her purse as Lucas joined her in the car before pulling out a map and spreading it across her lap, studying it intently.

Lucas smirked to himself. Haley did everything by the books. "Hales, I can get to Raleigh without a map, I promise. There are lots of signs, and I've driven there before."

"I know that," she said with a playful, long-suffering sigh. "Having a map is just part of the road trip experience." Her eyes were lit by a mischievous light. "Hey! Can we get lost? That would totally solidify all road trip clichés."

He rolled his eyes fondly, honking the horn as a final farewell to his mom. "I'll see what I can do."

-x-

"Hey, you!" Ellie said enthusiastically as she walked up to her daughter.

"Hey," Peyton replied, her voice so quiet that it was nearly drowned out by the music.

"Look at them go," her mother marveled, watching as Jack's Mannequin wowed the crowd. "You've kicked as with this, Peyt, it's incredible. I'm very proud of you."

Her words warmed Peyton's heart, but just as quickly as it had set in, the warmth faded. There was a sort of finality about her mother's words that terrified her. She looked over at Ellie and was alarmed at the sheer exhaustion that was painfully clear in every bit of her mother's body language. "Are you feeling okay?" she asked, keeping her voice as casual as she could.

She felt her mother's hand in her hair and froze, breathing shakily. "I'm fine," Ellie said soothingly. "But this is all a little weird, huh? It makes me feel a bit selfish." At her daughter's questioning look, she clarified, "It's a cancer benefit."

Peyton shook her head fiercely. "It's _not_ selfish, not at all. It's good."

"Sweetie…you know that nothing's going to change my fate. Not at this point. We agreed, remember? No regrets." She used the pad of her thumb to wipe away the moisture beneath Peyton's eyes. "And no tears."

Peyton's face crumpled. "I don't want you to…"

"Oh, baby, I know," Ellie replied softly. "Come here," she added, opening her arms.

Peyton curled up vulnerably in her mother's embrace, sniffling into Ellie's shoulder. Terms of endearment were never Ellie's thing, but Peyton found herself answering to them more and more lately. That didn't provide any comfort; in fact, it did the opposite.

"You listen to me, okay?" Ellie asked, her lips so close that they brushed Peyton's ear; that way she didn't have to yell to be heard. "I want to be strong, and I can see that you're trying, too. But the thing is that I _do_ have regrets. I regret that for so many years, I wasn't the mother you deserve. I love you _so much_…you deserve everything and anything that you ever want. I'll let somebody up there know that, okay?"

Peyton choked on a sob she couldn't hold back any longer. It had been welling in her throat for months, since the day Ellie told her that she'd decided to stop treatment. "Don't leave me," she whispered plaintively.

"Honey…" For the first time ever, Peyton heard the thickness of tears in her mother's voice. "I wish so badly that I didn't have to."

Ellie took a deep breath and pulled away, smiling gently. "No tears," she reiterated.

"Right," Peyton whispered, struggling to smile. "I…I, um…I saw Mick. He's here."

"Yeah," Ellie said, her voice its normal volume and packed with its usual strength. "I'll go and talk to him later." She reached out, tucking Peyton's hair behind her ear. "You should go find him, okay? Peyton, he…he loves you. I need you to know that. He doesn't know how to show it, but I know him well enough to know that he does."

Peyton nodded. "Okay. I just…I think I'll go and wash my face first."

Ellie nodded, too. She cupped Peyton's face in her hands and leaned forward, pressing a kiss to her daughter's forehead. "I'll see you around."

-x-

Lucas kept Haley's hand securely in his so that they didn't get separated. The place was teeming with people, half of whom were high or drunk in some way or another.

"Hey!" Haley yelled, her voice up to the volume necessary to communicate in any way with the noise of the crowd and the heavy beat of the music. "Thank you so much for doing this for me, Luke. I owe you big time for your next birthday."

He shrugged. "No. This is just as much fun for me…so it was kind of selfish present."

She shook her head, giving him a knowing look. He'd done a big thing for her. He was such a sweetheart. The fact that he'd scored the best concert tickets of the year not only have her a spectacular birthday gift, but also gave her the privilege of covering the event for their schools' newspaper. "There were no tickets left _anywhere_. You had to have paid a fortune."

He shrugged again, feigning modesty. "Only 'cause I love ya, Haley James."

"I know you do," she said earnestly, clasping his hand between both of hers. "And thank you. Again."

He grinned at her. "You're welcome. Listen…I'm going to run to the bathroom, okay? Can you promise me that you'll stay right here?"

"Sure," she said sweetly. "And I have my phone if you need me. Don't be too long, okay? I'll get all paranoid."

He nodded, knowing that she really would. He bent to kiss her forehead, a gesture of brotherly affection, before he headed off in search of a washroom.

Lucas moved toward a quieter area where far fewer people were lurking about. He wondered if that was a good sign or bad. He would've thought that the area surrounding the bathrooms would be crowded.

He pushed aside a long sheet of black fabric, figuring that he'd go a few more steps before he got himself completely lost. He stopped short just as that thought entered his mind.

The space he'd walked in to was completely empty save for copious amounts of technical equipment and a single girl. She was leaning back against a wall, her head tilted upward so that her eyes were directed toward the night sky. She was wearing a pink t-shirt with some slogan about finding the cure for cancer on it, but his eyes were drawn to her legs, stretching out endlessly from underneath the black leather miniskirt she wore.

Peyton brought her head back down only to see a complete stranger staring at her. He had messy blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, which were trained on her legs. Even though he was practically ogling her, there was something about him that just seemed so…wholesome.

Lucas looked back up to her face to see her scowling at him through pretty green eyes. She lifted an eyebrow, asking him a wordless question, and he could feel himself getting flustered. He'd been caught looking at her legs, he knew that for sure. As he paid more attention to her face, he noticed the fresh tracks of tears on her cheeks. The fact that she'd been crying couldn't be hidden even as she bent her head forward a bit, letting her curly blonde hair work as a shield.

"Hi. Sorry," he said, awkwardly shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

The apology was unexpected – the guys Peyton spent most of her time around weren't necessarily big on the whole manners thing. She felt her walls go up around her as she simply told him, "You're in a restricted area."

He looked at the laminated card hanging around her neck and realized that she had the right to be here, while he did not. Something about that struck him; he found it upsetting. "Right. Sorry. I was looking for the bathrooms."

Peyton smiled softly. "Way on the other side. You're pretty lost."

"Yeah. Sorry," he said yet again.

"Stop apologizing," she told him lightly.

"Oh. Sor –" At her pointed look, he kicked himself mentally, cleared his throat and said, "Um, so. Yeah. I guess I'll just be going, then. Thanks for the directions."

A small part of her brain – or maybe it was her heart – screamed at her not to let him walk off, but she purposefully ignored it. "No problem."

Lucas turned to go, but stopped. He sighed and closed his eyes before turning back around. "Look…sorry to be back here, sorry to be prying, and I'm sorry that I keep saying sorry but…are you okay?"

Her natural instinct was to snap at him and tell him to go the hell away. But before she could stop them, the words spilled from her lips, "I'm just…my mom…she organized this whole thing –"

"Ellie Harp?" he asked, and at her shocked expression he elaborated, "My friend's doing an article for the paper on this event. She's done her research."

"Oh," Peyton replied faintly. "Well…I guess what her research wouldn't tell her…is that Ellie's sick, she's…really sick. And I was just…" She shrugged, trailing off. He could draw his own conclusions.

His eyes grew deep blue with sadness, as if he'd embraced his pain as his own. "I'm sorry," he said earnestly. He knew just from the look in this girl's eyes that Ellie's sickness was beyond the point where an elaborate benefit concert could help her.

Peyton fidgeted uncomfortably. "It's okay. I mean, God, it's really not but…it's not something that _you_ have to be sorry for."

His eyes bored deep into hers. "I still am."

She bit down on her lower lip. "Thank you. Um, this…is off the record, right?" she asked, going for a joke.

He smiled at her and her heart skipped a beat. "Of course it is."

"Thanks for listening," she muttered shyly. "You should probably go…your friend will be looking for you."

Lucas nodded, remembering what Haley had said about getting paranoid. "Yeah. It was…nice to meet you. Good luck," he said, so firmly that she couldn't doubt that he truly meant it.

That part of her that didn't want him to leave screamed at her again, a little bit louder this time. "Hey!" she called out impulsively. "Who are you? Where are you from?"

Lucas grinned. "Lucas Scott. I live in Tree Hill. It's a small town a few hours from here." When she didn't reply, he prodded, "And your name? Or should I just call you Blondie?"

She blushed at how genuinely sweet all of his words were, and lifted her chin confidently, trying to disguise how much his presence was affecting her. "Peyton Wolfe," she told him.

He repeated it over in his head, savouring each syllable. "I'll see you, Peyton Wolfe," he told her, her name sweet as sugar on his tongue. That wasn't a name he'd be forgetting any time soon.

Peyton leaned back against the wall again as he disappeared again. "_Lucas Scott_," she mouthed, trying it out. There was a name that she was sure to remember.

-x-

"There you are!" Haley cried, wrapping her arms around Lucas in relief. "I _told_ you I'd get paranoid! Are the bathrooms that far away?"

"Uh…no." Lucas felt a little disoriented after the conversation he'd just had, the girl he'd just had it with. "I actually went in the wrong direction and got totally lost…the bathrooms are the other way, apparently."

"Jeez," Haley laughed. "Come on, I'll go with you this time." She wrapped one of her arms around her and he returned the gesture, following her lead as the navigated her way through the crowd. "Lucas…?" There was something off about him. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"I'm fine, Hales," he assured her with a smile. "Don't worry about anything. Nothing happened."

Lucas Scott hoped that the words he had just spoken aloud were a lie. Something had happened. He just didn't know what.

-x-

Peyton stood in the background, hidden by the shadows, watching her parents interact. Mick Wolfe was considerably older than her mother. He was a cool guy with some viciously bad habits, and Peyton had never been able to form a judgment of him that she could back up with sold evidence.

There was one thing that she did know. He loved her mother. Everything about him softened when he was around her, and she was the only one who could persuade him to give up his rock star lifestyle, even if it were only for a brief period of time. Even from the distance between the adults and Peyton as she stood watching them, she could see grief, already shining in Mick's eyes. She wondered if her own orbs looked just as haunted.

Ellie spotted her watching them. Peyton blushed, but her mother didn't chastise her, simply lifted her hand to wave Peyton over.

"Hey," Ellie greeted her when she arrived next to her parents, placing her hand on Peyton's back.

"Hi," Peyton replied, looking directly into her father's eyes.

"Peyton," he responded quietly, his eyes searching hers carefully.

Ellie wrapped her arm all the way around Peyton's waist, pulling her closer and sandwiching her in between the two people who'd given her life. "We were just talking about you," she said, her voice bright.

Peyton looked back and forth between the two of them and knew that they had been. She could read the same emotions in their eyes. She broke all eye contact, resting her head against his mother's shoulder. She'd wondered countless times in her life while some kids got two parents who adored them, spoiling them rotten and providing everything they could ever need, while she got two people whose eyes shone with remorse and tentative affection. But never before had she longed for it quite as much as she did right now, as she felt her first real sense of family, the three of them standing there together and watching the same musicians, feeling the same music. She was overwhelmed by the urge to cry, and before she could think too much about it, reached out and slipped her hand into Mick's. It took a full minute, but he finally squeezed back, and she let out the breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

This was a beginning and an ending.

And it was all she got.

**A/N:** Let me know if you'd be interested in reading more.

For those of you wondering why I've decided to dedicate my attention to _another_ storyline, I don't have an actual reason, but I do promise that I have updates for **How's Your Halo?** and **But I Know (Because It's You)** in the works. I need another week to deal with school, and then I'm going to delve back in to **Crescendo** as well. Thanks for reading!


	2. Survive

**A/N:** Sorry for the wait! I've just wanted to do a particularly good job with this story…I've never really written AU stuff before. Apologies for any spelling mistakes and/or screwed up verb tenses. Happy OTH night. ;)

**Chapter 2: Survive**

"That was _awesome_!" Haley raved, flopping down onto one of the beds and looking up at the ceiling.

Lucas grinned as he closed and locked their hotel door. "I'm glad you thought so."

"Oh, I _did_. It was spectacular. Energized. Fantastic. Powerful."

"_Somebody's_ been spending too much time with her thesaurus lately," Lucas teased as he sat down on the other bed and kicked off his shoes.

"Those words aren't synonyms."

He groaned, flopping back and letting his head sink into the soft pillow. "When you're as tired as I am right now, they are."

"Tell me about it," Haley agreed through a yawn. "I don't even have the energy to get up and change into pyjamas."

"Oh, there is no way in hell that I'm moving," Lucas said. "_You_, on the other hand, should probably take your contact lenses out before they glue themselves to your eyeballs."

"Ugh, you're probably right," she sighed. "Maybe I should try a different…brand. Or go back to wearing my glasses full time. What's your opinion?"

"Haley," he chided her gently. "You can debate the pros and cons in the morning. Right now you should get ready for bed. The sooner you stop talking, the sooner I can sleep."

"Jerk!" Haley cried with a gasp. She threw a pillow at him but didn't do anything more. She knew that there was no malice in his words, and she was too tired to argue, even playfully. Instead, she said, "Thank you again, Luke."

His eyes were closed, but he smiled. "You're welcome again, Hales."

Haley rummaged through her bag and then toted an armful of clothing and toiletries into the bathroom. Lucas heard the water running as he debated whether or not to go to the effort of actually getting under the covers. His tiredness won out in the end and he decided not to move.

He was asleep before Haley re-emerged, drifting deep into dreamland. His thoughts focused around blonde ringlets and wounded emerald eyes, creating a skewered fairytale world in which he longed to play the hero.

-x-

Peyton awoke from her restless slumber in the smallest hours of the morning as she felt her mattress shift beneath her. She rolled over onto her back, blinking blearily, to find that her mother had crawled into bed with her.

"Hi," Ellie whispered, brushing Peyton's side-swept bangs out of her eyes.

"Hi," Peyton murmured in reply. She knew exactly what tonight was, but she'd expected to spend it alone. "I thought you'd be with Mick."

"I'm here now." She smiled softly. "I like you better."

Peyton tried to smile back at her mother's attempt at humour, but she just couldn't.

"You matter most," Ellie said seriously. "You are the best part of me." She sighed. "I don't think you'll know how I feel when I look at you until you have a daughter of your own." Her eyes were shiny in the darkness of Peyton's motel room. "You were so amazing tonight. When I looked at you running the show…I could tell that you're going to be okay. I needed to know that."

She didn't understand where her mother had gotten that impression. Peyton felt exponentially far away from being okay. But if Ellie wanted to believe that she'd be alright, then that was what Peyton wanted for her as well.

Ellie pulled her close, allowing Peyton to nestle into her arms the way she'd always wanted to when she was a little kid, warm and secure, her head tucked into her mother's neck.

"We don't have to talk," Ellie said calmly, rubbing Peyton's back comfortingly, "but we can. We can talk about anything you want."

Her tears spilled over. "I won't think of the important things until it's too late."

"It's okay."

"Aren't you _scared_?" Peyton demanded thickly. "Because _I_ am."

"That's okay. That makes sense. You've got to stay here, keep going." She stroked Peyton's hair. "That's the hard part."

Peyton gulped. "Will you stay with me all night?"

"Of course I will. You go to sleep, I'll be right here." She paused. "Remember not to be afraid, okay? Trust your judgment to guide you to the right risks and _live_ you life. Can you do that for me?"

"I'll try," Peyton promised brokenly.

"Peyton."

She smiled weakly. "I will."

There was a smile in Ellie's voice as she spoke. "That's my girl."

"I…"

Her mother silenced her by kissing her temple. "I know. I _know_."

-x-

When Peyton opened her eyes the next morning, Ellie was already awake.

"Hey," Peyton whispered thickly.

"Hey," Ellie replied calmly, speaking so slowly that the word seemed to have two syllables instead of one. "You should get up. The day's still young."

Peyton hugged herself, shivering a bit. "I don't really want to."

"I know. But you should. Go out there into the world and look at the colour of the sky, listen to some good music. Do something great with every single day."

Rules to live by. There they were. The last piece of advice she'd ever get from her mother.

Peyton swung her legs over the side of the bed, standing reluctantly. She fought back tears as she pulled on a pair of jeans and concert tee she'd had for years. She looped an elastic around her hair, which she gathered at the back of her head in a messy bun. She didn't care how she looked.

When she turned around, fully dressed, her mother was sitting on the edge of the bed, smiling softly. Peyton rushed over to join her there and sank into Ellie's arms one last time.

They stayed there for nearly ten minutes, and Peyton tried to forget that she'd have to let go. Soon, too soon, Ellie sighed and pulled back. She placed her hands on Peyton's cheeks and kissed her forehead. "My baby girl," she said affectionately, and those were the only words needed.

Peyton knew that she was about twenty seconds from sobbing, and she didn't want to go there. She wanted to be strong. "I should go," she choked out, no matter how badly she didn't want to.

"Yeah, honey, you should. Just follow your heart, Peyton. You'll be okay."

Peyton pulled out of her mother's arms, and she was sure that it was the hardest thing she'd ever do. When she reached the door, she turned around and tried to smile. "I could…stay."

"Go. It's _okay_."

Her pathetic smile stayed in place so that she didn't scream. "I love you."

Ellie's lips curved into a genuine smile, and she spoke with unmistakable finality and Peyton's hand groped for the door, a tear slipping out of one of her cloudy green eyes. "Back atcha, baby," she said gently.

Peyton was out the door two seconds later, gasping for air in the parking lot.

-x-

"Thanks for the _millionth_ time," Haley said sweetly as she grabbed her pillow out of the car, shooting Lucas her best grin.

"You're _welcome_ for the millionth time," he teased in reply. "This is becoming sort of a pattern for us, Hales. If you want to thank me in _another_ way –"

"Perv!" she cut him off, a laugh in her throat.

"I'm just _saying_," he chuckled.

She handed him her half-empty bottle of Coke with a flourish. "Consider yourself sufficiently thanked," she said dryly, rolling her eyes as she headed toward her front door. "I'll see you at school tomorrow, loser!" she called over her shoulder.

"Who're you calling a loser, Haley James?" he shot back, glancing pointedly toward her pillow, encased with a smiling Hello Kitty.

"Dude!" she admonished, "You gave me this pillowcase for me sixth birthday!"

He shook his head. He knew that, of course he did. "Bye, Hales."

She smiled widely as she slipped into her home. "Bye, Luke."

He drove straight home and lugged his overnight bag, bursting with unfolded clothes through the door. "Ma! I'm home!"

Karen's smile was nothing short of relieved as she emerged from the kitchen. "Hey, baby boy," she greeted him, rolling her eyes when he winced at her display of affection. "It doesn't count as embarrassment if there are no witnesses present." She took his bag out of his hands and emptied the contents into a hamper. "How was the concert, sweetie?"

"It was amazing," he told her honestly, flopping down into the closest chair as he yawned. "But I'm tired."

"I can imagine," she said, raising her eyebrows. He could tell that she was searching his face for any telltale signs of a hangover. "Do you have any homework to get done?"

"I did it Friday in study hall."

She smiled fondly, reaching over to ruffle his hair. As he playfully dove out of reach, she said, "You're such a good kid, Lucas; I'm so proud of you. And you should be proud of yourself."

He smiled back sceptically. "I'll be sure to tell all the girls my mom said so."

Karen laughed as she picked up the hamper and headed down the hall. "You should get some sleep, Lucas, you look like you need it."

"Yeah…that sounds like a pretty good idea."

"Go," his mother called. "I'll make sure to wake you for dinner."

As always when he got home from a night away, Lucas' room looked comfortingly familiar, and his bed inviting. He shed his shirt and climbed under the covers in his sweats, expecting to give in to dreamland right away.

But he couldn't sleep. He was exhausted, but restless, and his mind wouldn't calm down. His body was as heavy as lead, but he couldn't seem to turn off his thoughts.

With a heavy sigh, he kicked off his sheets and stood up, pulling on a fresh t-shirt and grabbing his basketball. He scribbled a note to his mom in case she came in looking for him, and headed outside. Working his body always helped to calm his brain.

He went straight to the river court, jogging for the second half of the distance. It was quiet there, somehow tranquil and energizing at the same time. The perfect place to relax – relaxing, for Lucas, meant lazy shots at the metal-netted hoop.

Yet today, for some reason, despite the extent of his tiredness, he couldn't wear himself out, couldn't stifle his thoughts. He felt, in the strangest way, a little _lost_ and almost uneasy.

And God help him, he could not stop thinking about that girl.

-x-

Peyton ignored the sceptical look she received from the security guard as she slipped into the first music store she found. It was high-end and a little funky, with random glass walls in the strangest places. The bins that held the CDs and records had been decorated with intricate graffiti designs. She ran her fingers along the edge of neon purple-and-green one and the pads of her fingers picked up the smallest bit of dust. The sheer normality of dirt calmed her somehow, and she took a better look around. In another lifetime, this could have been her place, this store could have been what she achieved. She glanced at the front corner, where a girl a couple years older than her laughed at some guy's joke, giving him a shy smile. Peyton had to face reality. In another lifetime, maybe…but she was stuck with what she had.

She wondered around aimlessly for nearly twenty minutes, before she finally settled in front of a record bin and let her fingers flip through the records with the expertise of familiarity. She paused at one album and a smile touched her lips for just a second. The Replacements.

She snatched the record out of the bin and meandered over to her peers, the teenagers flirting at the desk. "Can I listen to this?" she requested. Just as many music stores offered customers the option of listening to CDs, she could see that this one did the same for records.

The guy looked her up and down for a moment but didn't reply. Peyton stared at him, arching an eyebrow, and then the girl beside him elbowed him sharply. "David!" she hissed.

He snapped back to life and blushed. "Uh, yeah, sure," he said, trying to be cool about it, and Peyton was comforted yet again by the normalcy she felt. "This way," he continued, and led her down an aisle.

He flipped the record around in his hands, setting it down, and settled the needle on top. "So, uh…you from around here?"

Peyton smiled softly at the nervousness he was trying so hard to hide. "No."

"Oh. Uh…where are you from, then?"

She shook her head. She wasn't remotely interested in him, and he didn't need to trouble himself with any more thoughts of her. On the scale of things that were never going to happen, _they_ were way up there. "Nowhere," she told him quietly, accepting the headphones he offered her. "Thanks."

"Yeah," he muttered, still trying to maintain his blasé attitude even though she'd basically just shot him down. "'Kay. Cool. Enjoy," he added, gesturing to the record player.

She leaned back against the wall, resting her head against the cool surface, a position similar to the one she'd adopted the night before, when that guy came in, smiled sweetly, and told her he was sorry.

It was then that she remembered what he was sorry for.

She listened to the entirety of _Here Comes the Regular_, her mother's favourite song, from the very first note to the very last, and to those short seconds of dead air. It was as if her lungs collapsed in time of the ending of the song, and she stopped breathing momentarily. She tugged the headphones from her head frantically, throwing them down, and rushed out of the store, cursing the glass wall she almost plummeted right into.

"Hey, are you –" The guy called after her, but she didn't stop to acknowledge him, or the security guard, who was still giving her a suspicious look.

Outside, she walked for about a block, trying to catch her breath and ignoring the sudden stomach ache she had. The air was much colder than she remembered, and she wished she'd thought to bring a sweater.

For the very first time in her life, in a strange city that she'd probably never return to, Peyton could feel herself having a genuine breakdown. Never before had she fallen apart like this. Not when she was a little girl, and she scraped her knee and no one seemed to care. Not when she was nine years old and the manager of a band had yelled at her for fifteen minutes because she'd tripped on a wire, disconnecting a speaker's power. Not on the day when Ellie, slightly tipsy, had attempted to explain to her why Mick had never been interested in being a part of her life. Not when Ellie first told her she had cancer, not when her mother promised that she was going to try to do things right from that point on, not when she announced that she was stopping treatment. Not even when Ellie told her, with the look in her eyes rather than words, that she was going to die.

Peyton didn't care what the citizens of Raleigh, outside on this dreary day, thought of her. She just really needed to _cry_.

So she sat down weakly on the curb, buried her face in her hands, and cry she did.

-x-

"What're you doing here?"

Lucas whirled around and smiled. "What're _you_ doing here? I thought you'd be napping."

"Couldn't sleep. Must still be high," she added dryly, holding out her hands for the ball.

"My mom would so not find that funny," he chuckled.

Haley grinned as she made a hopeless shot at the basket. "She trusts us, Luke. I would never violate that."

"You're such a good girl, Haley James," he said as he caught her rebound.

She shrugged. "Nothing really wrong with that." She paused and tilted her head, studying him. "Is something wrong, Luke?"

"No…why?"

"You just…you seem, I don't know, unsettled or something. You'd had this far away look in your eyes since we got back from the concert."

"Well, maybe I'm still high," he teased.

"Luke, you're such a loser!" she said, rolling her eyes, but her gaze soon softened with concern. "Seriously…you okay?"

"Yeah…I just." He sighed. This was Haley, his best friend, his partner in crime. He could tell her anything.

Haley sat down on the tarmac and patted the space beside her. "You can tell me anything."

His face lit with a grin for a second as he joined her. "I…I kind of met someone at the concert."

"Met _someone_?"

"Yeah…um, you know that woman who was running it? Ellie Harp?"

"Yeah, totally; I'm a big fan of the amazing job she does. Very businesslike."

"Yeah, right…well. I met her daughter."

Haley's eyes brightened with happiness. "She has a _daughter_? Oh, I wonder who she's with…her daughter must be so _cute!_"

Lucas stared at her in stunned confusion for a moment, and then realized what she was thinking. Ellie Harp was fairly young – technically too young to have a daughter the age of the girl Lucas had met last night. But then again, her lifestyle suggested that she didn't exactly hold herself to societal norms.

"She's actually…our age."

Haley's eyes widened. "Oh. Well. Wow. Her mom must have been really young…" She trailed off as a smile snuck onto her face, tugging her lips up, and she grinned mischievously at Lucas.

He squinted at her. "You okay?"

She bit down on her lower lip to keep her grin from widening too much.

"What?" Lucas growled.

Haley burst out laughing, leaning toward him as she asked, "Is she pretttttyyyyy?"

"For God's sake, Haley," he groaned.

"Oh, you're blushing; Lucas, you're adorable. She is, isn't she? Just say it."

"Yes, okay? She's beautiful."

He expected to say triumph in Haley's eyes, but instead he found worry. She rested her hand over his lightly. "Tell me what else is going on."

He took a deep breath, thankful for the understanding she displayed. "Ellie's dying, Hales. She told me that. She…she has this really tough exterior, but God, she looked so…so _afraid_. I can't get her eyes out my head."

Haley's sympathetic eyes twinkled with scepticism. "Her _eyes_?"

"Okay," he huffed, flipping his hand over under hers so that he could intertwine their fingers. "Maybe her legs, too."

-x-

When Peyton arrived back at the motel, her face sore from all the tears she cried, she found the group of people she'd grown up around gathered there. They'd all looked out for her from time to time, but she'd never really considered them family, per se. Still, they were the people who knew her best, and they all looked at her with undisguised sympathy.

"Peyton," George, the guitarist who'd taught her to read picture books when she was three years old, said softly, and that was all she needed to hear. She already knew, and they all knew that.

Jack stood up cautiously from the chair he was sitting and walked forward a couple steps, the first person brave enough to move toward her. "Hey," he said quietly, opening his arms. "Come here."

She stepped into his hug willingly, burying her face in his neck and holding on tight.

One of his hands held her tightly around the waist while the other drifted upward to stroke her hair soothingly. "It's gonna be okay," he whispered, kissing the shell of her ear.

She wanted to scream. It was so easy for him to say that. In a week, he'd be gone, and she'd be alone. And nothing would be _okay_.

-x-

It was evening in an old park, just as the sun was falling from the sky, that Peyton found her father.

She approached him cautiously. He was sitting on a swing, staring into the distance. She was frightened of him in the strangest way. She'd never spent much time around him and didn't know him well. He wasn't threatening in any way; she was scared that she'd end up liking him enough to start to love him. And she knew there was no chance in hell to have those feelings returned.

He waited until she'd settled herself onto the swing next to his before he spoke. "How're you holding up, kiddo?"

That was the most affection he'd ever displayed around her, and it made her feel just a little better. "Not so good," she confessed, a shiver running through her body. Despite how cold she'd felt all day, she had yet to put on a sweater.

Mick eyed her warily, with just the slightest bit of concern. "You look cold," he said, and lifted up the leather jacket that sat in his lap, offering it to her. "Here."

She stared at the piece of clothing with watery eyes before she finally chanced a glance at his face, her lips twitching downward. "You should keep it."

"No," he said quietly. "She'd want you to have it."

Wordlessly, Peyton took her mother's jacket from him and shrugged it on. She waited a moment before she gathered the courage to shakily ask: "What now?"

Mick sighed, shaking his head. "Peyton, I'm sorry, but I don't know. I can't…I can't take care of you."

Her eyes flew up to meet his, wide with shock. Yes, she'd been alone most of her life. Yes, she was technically old enough to take care of herself. But her mother had just died and she wasn't strong enough. She needed someone. No matter how disinterested Mick had always been when it came to her, she'd expected him to step up for _this_.

"It's not you, Peyton, you're a good kid. But I'm _not_ a good dad. I don't know how to help you or how to be there for you." He looked her up and down and shook his head. "God, you look _so_ much like her." He stood up abruptly and began to walk away, leaving her to gape at him. When he was about ten steps away, he turned around. "I am sorry, kid, I really am. But I can't handle it. I promise…this is what's better for _you_."

Peyton sat in the eerie silence of the park for nearly an hour after he left, kept warm by Ellie's favourite jacket. Something her father had said hit a nerve.

She had to think about what was right for _her_.

Most importantly, she had to get out of there. Ellie may have thought that she'd be alright, but she really wouldn't. She couldn't live this life anymore. She didn't feel safe in doing so. If she left, no one would _really_, truly miss her.

So leave she did.

She walked briskly across the park, straight toward her rundown-but-beloved car, and got in. She rested both hands on the steering wheel and took a couple deep breaths. Her mind was a complete and utter mess, a bit addled by grief, and a single thought stuck out to her.

_ "Lucas Scott. I live in Tree Hill. It's a small town a few hours from here."_

Peyton had never felt quite so lost, but she had also never been so sure of a destination.

**A/N:** Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?


	3. Stumble

**A/N:** Thanks for reading; reviews are love.

**Chapter 3: Stumble**

"Lucas, you are my _saviour_!" Haley exclaimed gratefully as he entered the newsroom, digital camera in hand. "I needed those pictures."

"Yeah," he agreed, feigning modesty. "You are _damn_ lucky to have me."

Haley smiled noncommittally as she pulled the memory card from the camera and slipped it into the laptop she was using. "Hey, Lucas?" she asked as she pressed multiple keys and copied the photos onto a CD.

"Yeah?" he asked, glancing up from an old copy of the school's paper he'd been flipping through just for the heck of it.

"Remember how you told me that you met Ellie Harp's daughter?"

He smiled softly. "It was only yesterday, Hales, I'm not senile. Yeah, I do. And you can stop calling her _Ellie Harp's daughter_. Her name's Peyton."

"Peyton," Haley repeatedly reflectively. "That's pretty. I wonder what it means." In a flash, her fingers were moving at top speed as she accessed a search engine.

"Hales, did you have a point?"

"Peyton," she repeated again, ignoring him. "It means _from Pacca's town_. I don't know what _that_ means…Then again, your name also has a cryptic, uninteresting meaning – but hey, who'm I to talk, right? Haley means _from the hay clearing_," she chuckled.

"Haley," Lucas said again, trying to get her back on track.

"Oh, sorry…right! Did you…get Peyton's number, or something?"

He rolled his eyes. "Okay, I know you think I have a crush on her –"

"I don't _think_, I know, but that's not the point. You've just seemed very spacey lately…it might be good for you two to talk. Put your mind at rest."

The bell rang and he shook his head. "My mind's fine, Hales. But thanks for caring…_from a hay clearing_," he added with a laugh as he reached the door.

"Oh, whatever, _man from Lucania!_" she yelled after him.

-x-

Peyton turned into a restaurant on the side of the road. She'd been driving for several hours, and was in desperate need of some sleep and food. Since sleep would have to wait until she had an actual place to stay – she wasn't keen on crashing out in the middle of some parking lot in the backseat of a convertible – food was her current priority.

She ordered Belgian waffles, which sounded so appetizing that they might even cheer her up a little bit. When the waiter, a kid about her age with an unfortunately geeky clip-on tie brought her her waffles, Peyton slapped on the brightest smile she could muster up considering her mother had just died, undid another button on her top, and asked if he could bring her a phonebook…and a virgin margarita, while he was at it. The tips of his ears turned bright red when she said the word "virgin" to him, and the innocence he exuded just about broke Peyton's heart.

Her waiter scampered back moments later with her drink and the directory, and she cracked open the thick book, scanning down the page she needed.

She was lucky in the sense that there were only two Scotts in all of Tree Hill, Daniel and Keith. She shrugged as she scrawled done their addresses, which were thankfully both there. She figured alphabetical order was as good a way as any to go when it came to the process of elimination.

She finished her food, returned the phonebook, gave the waiter a final wink, and got back into her car, on her way to Dan Scott's house.

-x-

She spent nearly half an hour outside said house, half-sitting as she leaned back against her convertible. Dan Scott did not live in a house, he lived in a _mansion_.

Peyton wondered if it was possible for Lucas to have come from this house – mansion – whatever. She tried to remember what he was wearing, if his clothes had screamed off money. She tried to remember if he'd had a fake-looking nose. She remembered him looking kind of athletic, and there _was_ a basketball hoop in the driveway, so maybe… She shook her head at the silliness of her own thoughts. Who was she kidding? She really had no idea whether Lucas lived there or not. She was so conditioned not to judge people that she didn't even know _how_ to make an assessment on first meeting.

She was a little bit nervous. She was actually _very_ nervous. She didn't really know what she was doing here. Or maybe she did. The thing was, as little as she could remember about Lucas Scott, she could fully and entirely recall his eyes. Icy blue that wasn't cold, but kind and caring. He looked like he genuinely cared about her, even though he didn't know her.

That was what mattered. That was why she was here. She just needed to know that someone, anyone _cared_.

Taking a deep breath, she adjusted her shirt and smoothed out her unruly curls. She couldn't remember the last time she worried quite so much about her appearance, but if she was going to show up on someone's doorstep, virtually orphaned and very much in need of some help, she needed to look good.

Sucking in yet another deep breath, she strode over to the house, mustering up all the confidence she possessed and more. She lifted her chin and her hand at the same time, before she finally let her knuckles fall against the wood of the door four times.

For a while there was nothing. The door didn't open, and she couldn't sense any movement within the house. But just when she was about to turn around, the door swung open, and she turned again, prepared to explain herself.

She was shocked into silence by the sight in front of her. A boy about her age, dark-haired and well-built, stood before her in nothing more than his boxers. Her eyes drifted to his defined abs before she could stop them, but she quickly focused her gaze on his face. His eyes were tinged oh-so-slightly red, as though he was hungover.

When she met his gaze, she noticed that he'd been checking her out just as she had him and cleared her throat. He shot her an unimpressed but amused smile. "And _who_ do we have here?"

Peyton cleared her throat. "I'm, um…"

"You're either stupid or nervous," he cut her off with a self-assured smirk, his eyes raking down her body once again. "But I can work with either."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm Peyton."

"Ah, she _can_ speak. Must be nervous, then."

She was growing tired of him already. "And _you_ are?" she asked in the same tone he'd used.

"You're at my house, babe, but you don't know who I am?"

"Don't call me _babe_. And no, I don't, I'm sorry, but I…I'm looking for someone."

"Someone?"

Peyton scowled. "Yeah. Do you know a Lucas Scott?"

"_Lucas_ Scott?" he looked a little stunned, but leered toward her a couple seconds later. "Where would _Lucas_ have met a pretty, bitchy girl like you?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Are you always so cocky?"

He smirked confidently. "You have no idea, babe."

"God," she scoffed, shaking her head and moving to turn away.

"Hey…hey." He reached out, touching her elbow gently. "Sorry. But you set yourself up for that one, you're got to admit."

Her smile was reluctant but genuine. "Yeah, I guess I did."

He stopped to think for a moment and then said, "Hey, you…you want to come in?" When her eyebrows shot up, he continued, "My parents are awake for the week. I promise I'm not a serial killer."

"Yeah, you seem much more like a rapist," she muttered.

He grinned at her. "Feisty," he commented simply, then stepped aside, holding the door open for her.

Tentatively, she stepped into his impressive home, glancing around shyly. "I don't even know your name," she pointed out.

"Name?" He arched an eyebrow. "My name is Nathan Scott. The boy you're looking for is my father's bastard son."

-x-

"Wait up!" Haley called, rushing after Lucas as he headed away from the school.

"Hey, girlie," he greeted her.

"Hey back," she said with a flash of her pearly whites. "So, best friend ever, you willing to give me a drive home?"

"I don't know," Lucas sighed, cricking his neck to one side as he pretended to consider.

"Oh, shut up," she said, whacking him in the chest with her binder.

"Bossy," he commented with a roll of his eyes as he opened the door for her. "M'lady," he said with a bow.

"Such a gentleman," she replied, her eyes softening. "What did you do today? No," she stopped him before he could speak. "Let me guess: read a book, wrote a broody love story that you'll never let anyone read, admired the lives of the elite from afar. Am I right or am I right?"

"_Actually_," he corrected her. "Most of _the elite_ decided to take the day off today. Hungover or something, I guess."

Haley wore an adorably triumphant smile as she pointed a finger at him. "Caught ya. You _were_ admiring."

"There's nothing there worth admiring," he contradicted her with a shake of his head.

"Not even Brooke Davis?" she asked, arching an eyebrow.

He shrugged. "She's beautiful, I'd never deny that. But she's not…"

"You know what your problem is, Lucas Scott?" Haley asked, holding her hand out of the window, fingers splayed, so that she could feel the gush of the wind.

"What's my problem, Haley James?" he replied, playing along.

"You want to fall in love," she said quietly as he turned onto her street and she yanked her hand back to keep a car from coming by and destroying her limb.

"And that's a _problem_?"

"No," she laughed. "It's just not as easy as hooking up with Brooke Davis." As he pulled up in front of her house, she grinned. "You're kinda lame, you know? But _I_ love you anyway."

"Get lost," he chuckled.

"Call me later!" she yelled over her shoulder.

Lucas grimaced to himself as he slid back into the consistent flow of traffic that hit suburban streets only right after school and work. Girls were great, and he never shied away from Brooke's not-so-subtle flirtation which involved backseats and leopard-print and a lot of usage of her nickname for him, but he knew that it didn't really _mean_ anything, and that wasn't what he wanted. His social circle consisted of, well…Haley, and she was his best friend.

Lucas wanted to feel something _real_, something like the passion and intensity that he read about in the countless novels he'd devoured. His mother told him that he was young, and that this was the time for moderately meaningless fun, but that just wasn't his thing. Lucas craved connections that were based on more than physicality.

He believed in fate, even destiny. And he was going to find that.

Or maybe it would find him.

-x-

"So, can I ask you something?" Peyton questioned as she rested her elbows on Nathan Scott's marble countertop.

Nathan rolled his eyes as he grabbed two glasses from a cupboard. "My father dated his mother in high school and got her pregnant. My father left for university and met _my_ mother, and he got her pregnant, too. They got married. Lucas is three months older than me." He leaned over to inspect the contents of the refrigerator. "It's the biggest piece of gossip in this dumb town, always has been, always will be, especially since both Lucas and I seemed to have inherited the 'basketball' gene." He pulled out a bottle of vodka and set it down. "That answer your question?"

Peyton lifted her eyebrows and smirked slightly. "That's not what I was going to ask…but thanks for the history lesson."

"Oh…"

She smiled softly as she stood up straight. "You can't be any older than me. I was going to ask why you're not in school right now – and why you're _drinking _in the middle of the day," she added, snatching the bottle of Absolut out of his hand and holding it over the sink, letting the liquid drain out.

"_Seriously_? I invite you into my house and _that's_ what you do? Liquor's expensive?"

"Oh, _really_? Huh. Pretty sure you can afford to buy some more."

"Okay, fine. Why aren't _you_ in school right now?"

Peyton shrugged. "I've never gone to school."

"Yeah?"

She nodded. "I'm guessing that you think it's a pretty big waste of your precious time. What do you do? Basketball, right? Drinking, sex…video games, right?"

He shook his head, and there was a shade of awe in the curious gaze he cast her way. "What's your story?"

"My story," she sighed, studying the tray of fake fruit in the middle of the kitchen's island, "is that my mom just died and I don't really have…anyone or anything or any…where right now."

"I…I'm…sorry." He paused. When he seemed to decide that she wasn't about to have a breakdown of any sort, he asked, "What does Lucas have to do with any of that?"

She sniffed and looked up and into his eyes, blinking harshly to stifle the tears she could feel glistening in hers. "I really don't know," she admitted.

"Okay," Nathan said, his voice softer and more contrite. "Hey, listen…my parents are out of town for the next couple days, so…you can stay here, if you want."

She shot him a grateful smiling, sensing how very out of character this was for him. "Thank you for being nice to me," she said, scuffing her toe against the floor.

"S'okay," he muttered, embarrassed.

"Why _are_ you being so nice to me?" she asked, trying to lighten the atmosphere.

He grinned and she knew that it had worked. "You're hot."

She let out a short laugh, looking down. "My stuff's in the car."

"You need any help?"

"No, I…I don't have a lot. While I'm gone…" she began, pushing away from the counter. "Why don't you make me a _non_-alcoholic drink in that fancy-ass blender of yours?" she asked, gesturing vaguely to the other side of the kitchen.

"Ohhh," he laughed, wearing a heart-stopping smile. "So you're _that_ kind of girl."

She giggled. That didn't really make sense, and she was pretty sure he knew it, but she was feeling a bit better already. "You got it," she said with a smile, and then disappeared out of his house.

Nathan shook his head. Everything had just gotten a hell of a lot more interesting.


End file.
